


Haunt My Days

by MyDepressionIsGucci



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst but it gets better I promise, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trans Inquisitor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-09-29 23:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17212709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyDepressionIsGucci/pseuds/MyDepressionIsGucci
Summary: The Inquisition had dealt with Corypheus, leaving the inquisitor plenty of time to overthink. He would need to finally deal with his past struggles and seek help, or he would drown in his own mind.





	1. Sometimes Memories Are The Worst Form Of Torture

Ström looked out across the courtyard, it wasn’t anything grand, but it certainly had enough room to do what it was needed for. He had his own personal garden, which he made sure to take care of. He’d been given a few seeds by his clan, elfroot, embrium, etc. anything you’d find in a dalish clan. He cherished what little he had left from his life near Kirkwall. He made sure to gather more items that reminded him of home, Dorian teased him with it. Though only because he knew the inquisitor found it silly as well.   
Ström ran a hand through his hair and sighed. It had certainly gotten longer, maybe he needed it shaved. When the Inquisition had begun, he had a shaved head, and would make sure to keep it as such. It was important for a hunter to be able to see, but he hadn’t hunted in years. At least not a _proper_ hunt. Skyhold was his new home, he knew that he was still needed. Despite Corypheus being long gone, and hopefully gone to stay. Most of his companions had left as well. Cassandra- Divine Victoria, was the first one to leave. It seemed like the chantry couldn’t waste any time. Ström understood their situation, they had been without a divine since the conclave, they needed someone up front.

“Got something on your mind?” Ström jumped as soon as Cullen spoke, he had been in his own thoughts for so long that he had completely forgotten he was in public. Cullen chuckled at that, it was nice to see the inquisitor act like less of a tale, and more of a down to earth elf. “No, I was just uh…” Ström paused, what _was_ he doing. He had completely forgotten what he was supposed to do. He looked around as if that would give him the answer but gave up after a few seconds. “Do you need me for anything?” he looked back at Cullen. He had changed after everything with Corypheus, they all had. But Cullen had become much friendlier than before, perhaps the stress of a self-proclaimed god destroying the world no longer being a matter, did wonders for ones mood. “Not at present. I just figured I needed to breathe for a few moments before getting back to work.” He smiled, his eyes did too. A year ago, he would only rest to sleep, but only because it was necessary to rest in order to work. He always pushed himself to the limits, and even beyond that. It was rather impressive, though it was in no way shape or form healthy. “That’s new” Ström let out a small, almost, giggle. “Want to play chess?” Cullen nodded towards the pavilion that was neatly placed against the fortress wall, decorated with a variety of bushes and flowers. “What, so I can beat you again?” Ström laughed, as did Cullen “We’ll see, I’ve been practicing.”

~*~

It had gotten late, the tavern was lit by the many candles inside, it was quite cozy. The Iron Bulls laugh roared above the other voices inside, followed by what Ström assumed could only be a qunlat swear as the Iron Bull downed his glass. You could almost see him flinch, for just a short moment. “I gotta say Boss, there’s nothing like Skyhold!” He exclaimed, leaning forwards in his chair and leaning onto the table, it lifted itself in the opposite corner due to the weight. The chargers laughed, and Krem, who was sat next to the inquisitor placed a hand on Ström’s shoulder. Ström shook his head as he laughed. He had been casually drinking for a while now and could finally feel it kick in. His face was warm, and he felt glad. He looked around the warm tavern and spotted a few scouts he’d seen around the various locations he’d visited in Thedas. “Krem, can I talk to you in private?” A fake smile spread its way across Ström’s face, he didn’t mean to sound too serious around the chargers or Bull. “Of course,” the two stood up “don’t do anything stupid Chief” Krem laughed before he left with the inquisitor.

“I need your help with something” they stood behind the tavern, making sure they were out of sight. Though they knew Leliana’s spies would be watching. They always were, for better or for worse. You got used to it, as annoying as it was. It was sometimes nice that you wouldn’t have to tell Leliana about something, she always knew.   
Ström began unbuttoning his red Inquisition jacket, and Krem immediately knew what the inquisitor wanted him to do. They both faced that same struggle, though one was able to talk rather freely about it, the other couldn’t. They were both trans, and it was something they simply had to live with, to make the best of it. Though everyone at Skyhold who wanted to know, knew about Krem. Only a small selection of people knew about the inquisitor. Leliana obviously knew, as did Dorian, and of course Krem. Krem loosened the cloth that was bound around the inquisitor’s chest. “You know you shouldn’t be doing this daily, right?” Krem wasn’t asking, it was more of a verbal note as he noticed the yellow and blue bruises around the inquisitor’s chest. “I don’t have much choice” He sighed, he didn’t need to bind in order to pass, but the anxiety of anyone finding out kept him from taking care of his body. “Do you think I should cut my hair, is it too feminine?” Ström raised his arms so Krem could tie the cloth properly. Krem laughed “your hair is barely longer than Cullen’s” The two definitely felt the alcohol in their system. “Yes but-“ “there you go” Ström hadn’t noticed that Krem was finished, he reached for his shirt and put it back on. He grabbed his jacket, though he decided not to put it on.

“You good?” Bull raised his brows at the two men before they could sit back down. “Yeah, can I get a refill?” Ström laughed and raised his glass, he’d rather avoid a conversation. Ström looked around and noticed that Dorian was speaking with Scout Harding. He wondered what they could be talking about.  
  
~*~

_His heart was pounding out of his chest, and it felt like his legs couldn’t keep up with the speed he was running at. The only thing he had to go on was the wagon tracks that were being washed away by the heavy rainfall. He almost fell in the mud but managed to regain his balance. His ears were ringing. One of the humans had hit him in the back of the head earlier, it was a terrible pain that seemed to spread to everywhere in his skull. He could feel his heartbeat in his face, he wasn’t sure if it was because of adrenaline or perhaps it was the pain. He stopped. The puddles underneath him were a mix of mud and blood and all he saw was his mother. Limp on the ground with a streak of blood from her nose to her lips. He walked closer, but only because there wasn’t a single sound to be heard. He took his mother’s hand, it was still warm. He scanned the area with his eyes and it didn’t take more than a few seconds to notice his father. They had cut his ears off. He wished he could hear them speak. But not even a bird could be heard. The rain was the only noise apart from Ströms uncontrolled breathing._

“Boss, wake up” Bull was holding onto the inquisitor’s shoulder and shaking him. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been gone this time. But the tavern had gone silent and Dorian was holding his hand. Dorian knew only a little about the situation. Whatever Ström found necessary, he couldn’t talk about what had happened without becoming too anxious. Leliana probably knew, she always did. His clan knew, they had found him a day later, still holding his mother’s hand. He felt his heart beat faster and it became harder to breathe, like the air had become too thick to enter his lungs. “I need to go” he let go of Dorians hand and ran towards his quarters. Everyone except Dorian looked confused, they’d never seen the inquisitor act in such a manner. He was usually calm, witty, and down to earth. But he’d grown pale and his breath had grown faster with each panicked heartbeat. He’d grown detached from everything going on around him. Dorian got up and ran towards Ströms quarters as well, he usually went there to feel safe. It was nicely decorated with various dalish elements. Halla statues in both gold and silver were placed all around amongst flowers of every shade and colour. Dorian finally spotted his boyfriend on the balcony outside. His elbows resting on the railing, hands covering his face. Dorian slowly approached him “I’m here for you, amatus.” His voice was soft yet clear you could hear the worry in his expression though. Ström didn’t respond, he was focusing on keeping his breathing calm. It was something he had learned throughout the years, how to keep your breath steady. Dorian placed his arms around Ström’s waist, just to let his boyfriend know that he was there if he needed it. He hated seeing him like that, he couldn’t heal it with magic, and it seemed to become more and more frequent as time went on. He couldn’t convince his boyfriend to talk to anyone about it though. He needed to stay strong, at least that’s what he had told Dorian multiple times. Ström was too stubborn for his own good.

They stood like that for a while, in their own thoughts. Ström tried to match his breathing with Dorian but realised that Dorians chest was larger than his own. Though he felt so safe in Dorians arms, he knew nothing would happen to him in that moment and everything finally felt better.


	2. Miss Me

A cold breeze swept through the room and the flowers shook slightly. Ström felt a ray of golden sunshine on his arm, peaking through the large windows. He was curled up in his bed, with Dorian of course. He didn’t want to say anything out of fear of waking his boyfriend. It felt so nice, just relaxing. Though he was lying in an awkward position on top of his arm, he was willing to ignore it for just a while. Dorian’s arm felt heavy as it rested on top of Ströms arm. Every now and then Dorian would snore, and Ström had to keep himself from giggling. He shifted position and Ström could feel Dorian’s moustache against the back of his neck, along with the warmth of his breath. If only he could stay like that forever.

“Inquisitor?” a soft-spoken voice broke the silence, and Ström quickly pulled the duvet over his chest to hide it from whoever was speaking. “Word for you” he looked towards the direction of the voice and his eyes met with the strangers. He knew it was too much to hope for to have even a day of rest.

He glanced back at Dorian and smiled as he sat up. His lungs hurt from the events the evening before, hyperventilating would probably do that to you. At least that was the only explanation he could come up with in his mind. He picked up the cloth he’d bind with and began wrapping it around his chest as he tried to ignore the pain in his chest. He hated doing it himself, he tended to do it too tight, which is why he would often get Krem’s help so he wouldn’t end up hurting himself. He kept his head high until his chest was covered, he didn’t feel comfortable with looking at his own chest. He never had. But what could you do.

He put on his clothes and began tying his boots as Dorian opened his eyes and stretched his arms above his head. “Leaving already?” Dorian sounded almost disappointed, as if he’d missed out on something exciting. Ström nodded before speaking up “I’m needed in the war room” he began looking around his room, opening seemingly random drawers in search for something to tie his hair back with. “Don’t start a war to keep me here, you know I need to go back to Tevinter” he almost purred as he spoke. Ström laughed “I might have to, I don’t know how the Inquisition is going to be able to go on without your wit” Dorian chuckled at the inquisitor’s joke. The two knew it was going to happen eventually, and that they wouldn’t be able to see each other for a long time. It was hard, especially on Ström. They both went quiet, as if they realised it wasn’t just a joke, that it _would_ happen.

“I should get going, I don’t want to keep the advisors waiting” Ström shook his head before speaking and went down the stairs.

~*~

“So perhaps we should try a new strategy no?” Leliana looked at Cullen with a raised brow. They were discussing how they could best provide help to some of the most affected areas of Ferelden. Leliana was specifically commenting on how some people refused the inquisitions help, that the inquisition wasn’t needed. Ström found it confusing, he didn’t quite understand why they’d refuse help just because the immediate threat had been defeated and dealt with.   
“I’m open for suggestions” Cullen almost sighed, he was clearly frustrated. “Perhaps marching in with our troops wasn’t the best course of actions” Ström admitted. “We need to protect the food we’re bringing, we can’t let bandits claim it” Cullen defended their choice. They discussed back and forth how to best help people, for what seemed like an hour until they finally concluded, and they were onto the next task.

Ström found himself thinking about Dorian, almost taking him out of the topic at hand. The entire ordeal with him moving back to Tevinter scared him. Ström had dragged Dorian with him to any spot in southern Thedas, or at least it seemed like it. Before they began dating, Ström would bring Dorian with him to any mission, which, admittedly was a strange decision. He just wanted to spend more time with the strange mage from Tevinter. What if Dorian found someone else in Tevinter? He shook his head and tried getting back into whatever his advisors were talking about, but it seemed that they weren’t talking.

“Inquisitor are you okay?” Cullen furrowed his brows, he seemed worried. Ström nodded “I’m just tired.” Josephine looked at Leliana before looking back at the inquisitor “We heard about the events at the tavern yesterday-“ it wasn’t a surprise, it shouldn’t be after all Ström had expected Leliana to know. “I’d rather not talk about it” he smiled as if there wasn’t any issue about it. As if it was a normal event, and not something his advisors _should_ be worried about. “Let’s just get back to work.”

~*~

Dorian was in his little nook in the library, he sat in the old chair, focused on an old book. It wasn’t exactly an interesting book, but it was something to do. He’d take small breaks to look out the window, it felt like you could see everything from Skyhold, it was quite beautiful being up that high. Especially at night when the sky was clear. You could see every star in the sky, you almost wanted to reach up and keep them like fireflies.

“What are you reading?” Ström leaned against the wall and smiled, the sunlight almost gave his emerald eyes a glow. “Something about the dalish, though it isn’t very interesting. At least not compared to your stories” Dorian shut the book and some dust flew off and almost danced in the sunrays from the window. The two looked at each other for a while without saying anything before someone finally broke the silence. “Would you like to go for a walk?” Dorian asked as he stood up and he could once again look down at his boyfriend. The two would often go for a walk around the ramparts, heights made Ström feel safe, it was something Dorian had quickly realised. It was strange, but Ström had explained that his clan had spent a lot of time in the mountains, which obviously felt like home to him at that point. Dorian couldn’t relate, but he found it interesting.  
The inquisitor nodded and stepped away from the wall he was still leaning against.

“Is there something you wanted to say?” Ström finally asked, they’d been walking a few minutes, and they normally weren’t as quiet around each other. Dorian took his boyfriends hand and stopped walking, Ström tilted his head to the side as he looked up into Dorian’s eyes. “You know you can talk to me, amatus.” He stated, he wanted nothing more than to help, he didn’t want to see Ström struggle. Ström’s gaze shifted towards the ground, there was something in him that almost screamed at him to talk. To finally get it off his chest, to finally speak to anyone about what went down. But another part refused. It made him panic, he couldn’t pinpoint why. Was it because it would suddenly seem _too_ real? Would it just be too hard to talk about? Or was he afraid that he would relive it again, like he’d done so many times before. He couldn’t think of an answer, so he kept quiet and shook his head. He wanted to speak, but he could only feel a pressure in his throat. He felt Dorian’s hand on his shoulder, it was so warm against Ström’s body. “It’s fine if you don’t,” Dorian paused, thinking of something else to say to ease the situation “I just thought I should let you know.”

~*~

“So,” Dorian looked up from the chessboard placed on the bed. The two were sitting on opposite sides of the bed, both focused on the board. “So?” Ström giggled, thinking Dorian had forgotten his train of thought. “The dalish…” Dorian made a move. “Do you ever accept others into your clans?” Ström laughed “what? Are you considering asking my sister to join our clan?” One of Ström’s younger sisters had been made keeper not too long after Ström had been made inquisitor. Dorian shook his head with a laugh “no need to worry, I could never ride a halla.” Ström let out another laugh before Dorian could continue “I was simply wondering.” Ström thought about it for a second, trying to remember “we do, but it isn’t that common. People aren’t exactly lining up to live in forests” he shrugged before moving a knight, taking out one of Dorian’s pawns. “It hasn’t happened in my clan as far as I’m aware” Ström liked talking about his clan, he missed them all. Especially his sisters. He was the oldest, though he didn’t act like it. “You should come visit some time, Mira keeps asking about you” Mira was the youngest out of the three, Fenriel was the middle child and Ström was the oldest. “You think they’d be fine with a Tevinter mage visiting?” Dorian sounded surprised, which probably wasn’t that strange considering the common view elves, especially the dalish had on Tevinter. “Maybe meeting the _entire_ clan wouldn’t be a good idea” Ström almost corrected himself. “My sisters would be okay with you, I hope. Mira doesn’t seem to hate you at least” Ström giggled. “How could anyone hate _me_ ,” Dorian pretended to sound hurt, grasping his chest for dramatic effect. Although Ström knew Dorian was joking, he couldn’t imagine why either. He couldn’t do anything but think of Dorian as perfect.

The pain in his lungs returned, this time it was sharp, he flinched. “Shit” Ström stood up from his bed before taking off his jacket, though even the act of moving his arms hurt. “What’s wrong?” Dorian’s expression grew worried, and he stood up as well. Ström didn’t answer he just buttoned down his shirt and began carefully untying the cloth around his chest. Dorian finally noticed the bruises that had been hidden away beneath Ström’s bandages.


End file.
